I always have these dreams.

That I’m getting late.

And this time,

It was clearer.

I kept getting distracted by things along the way.

Stopping me from arriving.

My politeness, holding me back.

Putting me on the burner,

Slowly and steadily.

And I’m always ok to get slowly grilled,

So long as I’m polite.

I need.

To end.

The habit.